Chapter 169
Chapter 169
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 169
Chapter Title: Continent and Continent (3)
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Jesuit priests Hallerstein and Go Kaisl welcomed Hong Daeyong.
Forgetting Kim Unhaeng's warnings, Hong Daeyong looked around for anything novel, but last year he had already swept up all the decent machines, so there wasn't much worth buying this time.
The two priests, on the other hand, were a bit puzzled. They had expected generous donations again, but Hong Daeyong showed no sign of offering any money.
"By chance, isn't that knowledgeable scholar from last time with you?"
"Pardon? Who was that knowledgeable scholar you mean?"
"The one who spoke German so fluently."
"Ah, you mean Chun-sik. Unfortunately, he couldn't come this time."
No financial backer? That was disappointing. Assuming German was already known in Joseon, the two whispered in French.
"He doesn't seem to have any intention or means of donating this time."
"Hmm. Priests shouldn't be greedy, but with the government's mood soured by recent rebellions, spreading the Gospel is tough without funds."
Even so, the two priests didn't chase Hong Daeyong away.
After all, as men of the cloth, they couldn't mistreat a guest over money. With plans to evangelize Joseon in the future, they had to think long-term.
So, they decided to wrap up the visit with a hearty meal they had prepared (expecting donations).
"The Censor seems quite interested in foreign artifacts. We've specially prepared a taste of distant Germany's finest cuisine for today."
If Kim Unhaeng had been there, he might have recalled those German cooking videos that sneaked into his YouTube recommendations like spies, teasing his appetite, and hated it. Fortunately, he wasn't.
By Hong Daeyong's standards, it was plenty gourmet. Catholic monasteries preserved Europe's cultural traditions most splendidly, and cuisine held no small place among them.
"This is that Western delicacy spoken of in the household of the revered scholar Lord Ichonmun-gong (Yi I-myeong)."
The wine and castella that Hallerstein brought out had been introduced to Joseon some thirty years prior by envoy Yi I-myeong and his son Yi Gi-ji (who soon got entangled in the crab paste game and died).
The one who had packed wine for Yi Gi-ji to give his father was none other than Xavier-Erembert Friedel, a Linz native a generation his senior.
After Kim Unhaeng's visit, while researching Joseon, Hallerstein had learned that Friedel had mapped China and even surveyed the border with Joseon, so he wasn't surprised.
Joseon wasn't some completely unknown land.
"I'm delighted to confirm the long friendship between the Jesuits and Joseon. Try this sausage too... Ah, do you know about these potatoes? The Chinese call them 'horse bell root [馬鈴薯]'. They grow well even in cold snaps and can be harvested in just three months—perfect to recommend to the common folk."
At this time, potatoes—known as maling shu in Chinese—were still unfamiliar even to many Chinese.
In Joseon, potatoes had been hailed as a famine crop from the start, but China wasn't as desperate for food security.
Plus, for promoting a foreign crop, sweet potatoes had already arrived first and claimed superiority with their sweetness. Even in Europe, before Potato King Frederick pushed them for rapid army provisioning, many grew potatoes just for their pretty flowers.
Hong Daeyong was equally unfamiliar with potatoes.
"No, this is my first time seeing them. Hearty and savory—could stand in for rice. I've heard there's something similar down south..."
Don't blame Hong Daeyong for confusing potatoes with sweet potatoes. There were no potatoes in Seoul, and sweet potatoes had been around but were gone now—how could he tell them apart? The one who deserved blame was Kim Unhaeng.
Hallerstein's interests lay elsewhere, not botany. Hearing "down south," he naturally deployed a missionary's specialty: spycraft.
"The Dutch might have brought them. Indeed, the Dutch introduced potatoes to Germany too. Are there still Dutch East India Company men in Joseon?"
"Yes. Skilled in artillery with various merits, they hold modest military posts."
Hong Daeyong wasn't a fool. He glossed over internal Joseon affairs vaguely.
But that phrasing led Hallerstein to mistake them for Dutch military advisors in Joseon.
Hallerstein grew a bit urgent.
He criticized the wicked Protestants and irreverent rebels—the Dutch vices—without overdoing it. Meanwhile, he thought to accelerate Joseon mission plans.
The pity was that Hong Daeyong had already lost interest in such matters.
He was engrossed in the potato's potential to save famine-stricken border folk.
"Could you share some potato seeds? And teach me how to plant and grow them, please. Of course, I'll repay you handsomely."
With that, Hong Daeyong offered a box of red ginseng, received as payment for helping Yi Jae-un smooth trade at the Beijing rear market.
The two priests' eyes widened.
Ginseng, 'more valuable than silver by weight,' had been known in Europe since the 17th century.
It might have been rejected in Europe for its odd color, but here in Beijing, they knew of the Joseon red ginseng craze.
Trading red ginseng for potatoes? If Kim Unhaeng were there, he'd have force-fed Hong Daeyong boiled potatoes until he choked. Hong Daeyong figured he kept his promise by not buying the 'machines' Kim Unhaeng forbade.
Hallerstein realized suddenly broaching heavy diplomacy might make Hong Daeyong suspicious, so he shelved the Dutch issue and gladly handed over potatoes.
"Today's events must be the Lord's guidance in loving Joseon's starving people. Be sure to spread these there."
Kropotov had bribed the gatekeeper with silver to slip in just as Hong Daeyong was having Changdae carry out the potato sacks.
Sensing the farewell mood without time to greet the hosts, Kropotov boldly blocked Hong Daeyong.
"I am Lieutenant Ivan Ivanovich Kropotov, serving in the Russian Imperial Guard and visiting China as a special envoy. You're a Joseon diplomat, yes? Spare a moment?"
Kropotov's mistake was his excitement making him speak French. The setting felt like European high society, and like many Russian nobles, French came more naturally than Russian.
Hong Daeyong, knowing no French, didn't panic.
Instead, he reacted like a typical Joseon man hearing incomprehensible babble.
That is, he pretended to understand perfectly.
Hong Daeyong smiled warmly at Kropotov, showed him a ginseng root, tucked it into the lieutenant's uniform pocket, patted his shoulder, and walked past.
Stunned by the unexpected response, Kropotov blanked out momentarily. By then, Hong Daeyong had vanished like the wind back to his lodgings.
He needed to record the potato farming method before forgetting. Some 'barbarian soldier eyeing nobles' gift exchange with greedy envy, forgetting manners' wasn't worth a thought.
That was utterly unremarkable compared to these potatoes.
Kropotov tried to chase Hong Daeyong immediately, but a voice from behind stopped him. Hallerstein's.
"Lieutenant Kropotov, was it? What brings you here?"
Horrified at his own blunder, Kropotov halted.
Truth be told, having met the Joseon man, he had no business at the Heavenly Lord's Church. But obsessing over Joseon would let the Austrians guess his intentions instantly. They were premodern espionage masters: missionaries.
Kropotov, an authority on French theater and actor himself, turned with brazen composure and smiled.
"Oh, nothing much. Hearing last year that Joseonites beat an Orthodox priest, I came to ask you 'allied nation priests' about it, and coincidentally a Joseon man was here—my apologies."
"I see. Whatever the misunderstanding, that fellow is favorable to Christianity."
Kropotov chatted amiably with these esteemed high monks as a noble. Internally, he clicked his tongue.
It was hopeless. The Joseon man was gone, and a lone European visiting the Joseon delegation's quarters now would draw too much attention.
Kropotov shelved verifying the 'Dzungar-Joseon alliance' rumor.
It didn't matter if it was true anyway.
On the way here, he'd resolved to make it true even if it wasn't.
For Russia to seize an ice-free eastern port, Joseon must rely on them. And nothing made Joseon desperate like the Qing threat.
Once his letter to the Qianlong Emperor was accepted and diplomatic details discussed, he'd subtly imply Joseon colluded with Dzungars.
Joseon would need Russia's 'honest mediation.'
For an envoy to hurry back, no reform beat Joseon speed king Yi Taeng.
But Fallen Star Prince Yi Taeng was currently suppressing the royal clan office.
No matter how much they manipulated info, Joseon folk read between the lines adeptly. Many quietly resented the royal clan's exclusion from the 'abdication'—an internal palace matter.
Kim Unhaeng planned to identify such disloyal elements slowly via the Fallen Star Prince, then purge them later by tying to a convenient rebellion.
Princes were all potential rebels anyway. With the Crown Prince's infinite vigor, no more royals were needed.
Thus, Kim Unhaeng vetoed Haheung Prince Yi Gang (a Seonjo descendant fast on his feet) for the Beijing envoy role. Clan control trumped speed.
Instead, he dispatched Gold Castle Guard Park Myeongwon, Park Jiwon's eighth cousin. Young, but as the king's son-in-law, his status sufficed.
The side effect: Park Jiwon, worried about missing 'Practical Learning' synergy with Hong Daeyong, pulled strings via his cousin again.
Beijing envoy Park Myeongwon stared incredulously at Park Jiwon laden with books.
"How many books did you buy? You're not some idle young officer sightseeing like last year. Don't neglect official duties."
"The Crown Prince ordered many Chinese books brought back—how is this not duty?"
None of the books were what the Crown Prince wanted, but vague orders were the issuer's fault. It'd pass visual inspection, so the Crown Prince would be pleased.
And Park Jiwon hadn't just collected books.
"Also, from the silver merchant I befriended at market: all southern inns and church Westerners are confined. Soldiers surround them—no one's allowed in or out."
Park Myeongwon eyed his brother steadily. Explain why the Qing did it, and he'd acknowledge his talent and back him; otherwise, a scolding.
Of course, Park Jiwon had the former.
"The Russians dared call their lord 'His Imperial Majesty' in memorials to the Board of Rites. Lately ignoring orders to hand over Dzungars, the Emperor raged, and the church sky-observatory colluders (Jesuits) got harsh reprimands too."
Frustratingly, Kropotov hadn't even attempted subtle implications or honest mediation.
He'd become a virtual hostage.
Neither Elizabeth nor Kropotov erred. 'His Imperial Majesty [eia imperatorskoe velichestvo]' matched Kyakhta treaty terms exactly.
But Moscow never imagined the Chinese gave Russians the official treaty while using 'vassal khan (Russian Emperor)' for their own Emperor in the true domestic version.
There's one Emperor for humanity, in the Forbidden City. Negotiations are for equals. Between Qianlong and all else: commands and obedience.
Qianlong, already irked by reports from border governors, seized the chance. Should've spotted it when pro-Qing quasi-officials like Kim Unhaeng clashed with Russians at market.
Border pacts or trade tweaks? Trivial now. Rites—the paramount—were disrupted.
Like Russia's hostage Dzungars for Qing talks, Qing now held Beijing reps hostage to force Russian compliance (neither could clash head-on yet).
The sky-observatory got smacked too for calendar tweaks and Taiping calendar-like meddling. Europeans might distinguish Russia/Austria, Orthodox/Catholic—but East Asians didn't care.
Sky-observatory head Ferdinand Hallerstein and deputy Anton Go Kaisl were suspended. They should thank Qing for lacking soul-transfer mind-control sticks.
Hearing this, Park Myeongwon sighed.
"It all fits—no mere rumor. As Kim Chun-sik said, Westerners are arrogant without discrimination."
"Yes. So, follow Chun-sik brother's words?"
"We must. They might suspect all foreigners now. Chun-sik saw far. Report the Namhansanseong demolition truthfully and bribe the rites officials too."
Then, a Chinese peeked into the delegation hall. Park Jiwon went out; the man handed a strange letter and vanished.
Park Jiwon unfolded it.
Dutch-scripted Russian.
Kropotov, learning 'Kim Unhaeng code' from priests, had broken the blockade with bribes to send it.
The pity: the only one who could read it wasn't here. Kropotov's ordeal would continue awhile.
Meanwhile, in Seoul, the Crown Prince consulted with Junior Censor Kim Unhaeng on state affairs as usual.
"Now that it's just us, where did that old history book come from?"
Kim Unhaeng had his excuse ready. Lewd Russian intermediaries fit perfectly for such smut.
"Russians helped procure something circulating secretly in China. Of course, I had no prior contact—just heard through channels."
"I see! I heard Russians are like old Naisen— their ships and cannons so strange even Qing troops struggled. Dealing with them could aid military matters greatly, no? Speaking privately, isn't the Golden Khan (Qing Emperor) blood foe of our three clans? Befriend distant, attack near fits."
Kim Unhaeng's misconception ('diplomacy for porn imports?') was wrong. The Crown Prince truly eyed firearms advancement. Merging public/private goals: a monarch one with the state.
But Kim Unhaeng couldn't see Russia's benefits.
By 21st-century knowledge, Russia's allies were all basket cases. Pre-modern view: no Japanese sword assaults on Crown Princess—why need a Russian legation?
"Warring States befriended distant, attacked near because all seven were accessible. Russians now: a few priests in Beijing. We don't even know their capital.
How befriend distant without knowing their home, or attack near foes without expecting aid? I pray Your Highness cultivates civil virtue more, blocks wars."
But the Crown Prince ignored Kim Unhaeng now.
"What if Russians seek friendship first? Landlocked or not, couldn't they send big ships like the Ha-ran folk?"
Kim Unhaeng snorted inwardly. Icebreakers? Earth wasn't wrecked yet; polar bears frolicked on sturdy ice.
By sea: Baltic to North Sea, Atlantic, Indian Ocean, South China Sea to Joseon. Sea-averse Russians? Impossible.
Joseon's continent worry: China only. The other? Not till Kim Unhaeng (as Chief Councillor) died.
So Kim Unhaeng blustered freely.
"If so, their distant labors merit council discussion at Myeongdang Pavilion."
The Crown Prince beamed.
Author's Notes
1. Russian nobles generally spoke good French; Kropotov especially gained fame translating Molière (France's Shakespeare) into Russian. He acted in imperial theater too—fact.
2. Qianlong's rage over the 'Emperor title' was real. Russians used exact treaty terms, but straight translation to memorials caused the fiasco.
Perplexing for Russians, but Qing ignored all demands including Amur passage (unrelated to Dzungars in real history). Strictly, Manchu/Russian/Latin versions matched; the domestic Hanja version demoted Russian Emperor below Chinese.
3. Missionaries often disarmed locals with tasty food. Castella won fans in Japan and Joseon; wine highly rated too.
Practical Learning scholar Park Je-ga (around Kim I-hwan's age now), infamous for gluttony, ate castella alone, scorning seated friends. Even at friends' homes, he'd devour food freely; friend Yi Deok-mu, sweet-tooth like him, raged in letters over stolen desserts, circulating like group chats.
4. Gold Castle Guard Park Myeongwon went as envoy in real history too—but as an old man much later. Sending youth as chief envoy was rare.
5. Censor (Commissioner) monitored envoy corruption. Thus, last chapter's Kim Unhaeng warned against embezzling; Hallerstein called him 'Censor'.